


The Golden General's Captive

by Edonohana



Category: Dragonlance - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Genre: F/F, Kneeling, Mind Games, Power Dynamics, boot kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edonohana/pseuds/Edonohana
Summary: She was the Golden General. Kitiara was her prisoner. It made no sense for Laurana to be afraid…
Relationships: Kitiara uth Matar/Laurana Kanan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	The Golden General's Captive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etothey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etothey/gifts).



Laurana stood outside the locked door of the room that held the captive Dragon Highlord. She had ordered that Kitiara be searched for weapons, but with courtesy, and that she be allowed to keep her armor. She had provided the prisoner with a fine room and good food and hot water to bathe in—all luxuries which Laurana herself had rarely experienced in recent months. 

Her advisors had shaken their heads, but Laurana had insisted. She said it was the honorable thing to do, but in truth, she hadn’t wanted Kitiara to be able to throw poor treatment in her face, or to claim that Laurana could not have faced her on equal terms. 

Laurana took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She was the Golden General. Kitiara was her prisoner. It made no sense for Laurana to be afraid…

Holding her head high, she turned the key and stepped inside. Kitiara lounged on the bed, her polished black boots dangling over the edge. She’d clearly taken advantage of the bath—the blood and mud had been washed from her face, and her hair was curling fiercely as it dried—but she’d dressed in her blue scale armor rather than in any of the more comfortable clothes with which she’d been provided.

Laurana locked the door behind her without ever taking her gaze off her prisoner.

“Afraid I’ll push you aside and run, elf-maiden?” asked Kitiara.

“No, but I’ve learned to prepare for the unexpected,” Laurana replied. 

“Ah.” Kitiara’s glittering brown eyes studied her. “Take off my boots.”

Laurana stared as her prisoner extended a long leg toward her. Those were the legs that Tanis had been so fascinated by, the musculature and curves hidden by the armor but the grace clearly visible. Then she took in the meaning of Kitiara’s words.

“I think you’ve forgotten who’s the prisoner here.” Laurana heard the uncertainty in her voice, and wished she’d said nothing. She’d prepared to be taunted, and didn’t understand why her preparation hadn’t been enough.

“Not at all. You can do anything you want with me. Would you like to learn what Tanis already knows? He always started by taking off my boots.”

Laurana’s temper flared. “Maybe _you_ should take off _my_ boots!”

Kitiara’s lips curved in a crooked smile. Laurana was unsettled to realize that she found it more charming than mocking. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You _are_ the Golden General. And Tanis is… Tanis.” Laurana felt pinned in place by the regard of those bright brown eyes as they looked her up and down, openly observing her body as no man had ever done. The crooked smile widened. “Very well. After all, I _am_ your prisoner.”

Kitiara stood up gracefully, stepping away from the bed, then knelt before it. When Laurana didn’t move, she gave an impatient wave of a hand. “Go on. Sit down.”

Laurana swallowed, wondering just how far Kitiara would go with this. She probably meant to string Laurana along and lure her close so she could pick her pocket and then strangle her, but she wasn’t the only trained warrior in the room. Laurana felt quite equal to the task of foiling any violence, and no human could ever match an elf when it came to stealth. 

She _had_ come to get what information she could. She hadn’t expected Kitiara to cooperate, but Laurana had thought that whatever jeers or insults or defiance was flung at her might convey something unintended within the flood. And so it had. She was already learning a great deal. Who knew how much more she might gain if she turned the tables on her prisoner, and strung Kitiara along with the very cord she was extending.

Laurana strode to the bed, hearing her own bootheels clack on the stone floor, and sat down. She looked down at the woman kneeling before her, in full armor like a knight offering fealty, and the thought made her wistful. If only that was what Kitiara was really offering, rather than this game of power and trickery.

She extended her leg as Kitiara had extended hers, ready for the other woman to slap it aside or spring up or spit on it. 

Kitiara drew off her boot, her hands strong and sure. Laurana swallowed, feeling her heart racing again. She offered her other foot, and Kitiara took off that boot as well. Laurana’s feet were left clad in green stockings of elfin-spun silk; they were far warmer and sturdier than they looked. Kitiara reached upward, sliding her hands into Laurana’s trouser legs, and peeled off the stockings. She caressed Laurana’s legs as she did so, making the act of service and fealty into something deeply sensual.

 _I should get up and leave,_ thought Laurana. _This is going too far._

But she’d have to put her stockings and boots back off before she walked out of the room, and before she could figure out how to do that in a dignified manner, Kitiara was leaning forward. Still kneeling before her, she unbuttoned Laurana’s trousers. Her body heat and breath were hot on Laurana’s bare flesh as she bent her dark head and laid down her mouth.

Laurana found herself arching, thrusting herself forward, her hands scrabbling on the slick scale armor across Kitiara’s shoulders. Her mind cast about for something to think of besides whether or not she should be allowing this, and she seized upon the idea of getting a better grip. She undid the catches on Kitiara’s breastplate, her tunic, and her greaves, letting them all slither to the floor with a sound that made her think of Kitiara’s mouth. 

Under the armor, she wore a simple tight blouse, buttoned down the front. Laurana undid the clasps, freeing Kitiara’s breasts. They were big and tipped in brown, and Laurana couldn’t help caressing them. She came to her climax as she felt the nipples harden under her fingers. 

“Don’t think,” Kitiara whispered, licking her lips. “Just feel.”

She pushed Laurana down on the bed and stripped off her clothes. Laurana did think enough to snatch up her key and lay it on a side table where she could keep an eye on it, ordering Kitiara as she did, “You take off _your_ clothes.”

Kitiara obeyed, quickly, her glittering brown eyes darting from the key to Laurana’s body. Before Laurana could have any more sensible thoughts, they were both naked on the bed together. 

“Use your fingers,” said Kitiara. “I want to get my pleasure from the hand that held the dragonlance.”

Laurana obeyed without thought. She’d never done such a thing with a woman before, but she knew her own body and elves have a natural instinct for anything that requires deftness. She kept one hand on Kitiara’s breasts and one in the wetness between her muscular thighs, watching closely as Kitiara moaned and enjoying the pain as her strong hands clenched on Laurana’s shoulders. Most of all, she relished the moment when those bright brown eyes, normally so sharp, lost focus and then closed as Kitiara came to her own climax.

Afterward, they bathed in what was left of the hot water (now merely warm, but still delicious), then returned to the bed. Laurana couldn’t stop remembering Kitiara kneeling before her, like a knight before a general. Why couldn’t it be like that in truth?

“Join me,” said Laurana impulsively. “We’ll fight Takhisis together. What can she offer you that’s better than what I offer?”

“What do you offer?” Kitiara’s habitual smile was gone. She looked serious, for once, as if she was poised on a precipice, looking at the drop and the offered hand.

Laurana’s gaze was caught by the pillow, where locks of silken gold were caught around thick dark curls, then by the table, where the key still lay. There had been a moment when her attention had been so distracted that Kitiara could have palmed it, though she’d have had to kill Laurana to actually use it. Laurana thought she wouldn’t have succeeded. But she hadn’t even tried. 

“Me,” said Laurana.

Kitiara took her hand.


End file.
